[Moments of Adoration]

Inspired by a dream Elly had. She requested paper-distraction fluff and my brain supplied this.

Sam considered if the same logic of falling and landing in dreams applied to erotic dream car crashes, and that someone (like one of the waking versions of the two men in the backseat) would find her dead in her bed, her hand in her shorts and a smile on her face.

"This is your fault, blondie. Sick and wrong and hot and all your damn fault." She wondered what it meant that even in her dreams he was an abrasive little prick. His eyes now flicked from the road to the mirror to his lap, and he breathed hard and the speedometer needle kept ticking to the right.

She wondered what it meant that he was in this dream at all.

"Weally, Cawter, de hings hat says abowt your Id..." And then Daniel was shushing Jack, admonishing him with, "Didn't your mother teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"

The car jerked ahead, faster and swerving to the left, and Sam hit the passenger door. Which was actually the floor, she realized. She was sticky with sweat and sheets were tangled around her legs and the shoes she'd kicked off before falling into bed the night before dug into the small of her back.

And she seriously considered therapy.